“Herbivore” Writing

“Writing is like going to bed with a beautiful woman and afterwards she gets up, goes to her purse and gives me a handful of money.” – Charles Bukowsky

Very difficult to be put in the words of a woman. Writing is like going to bed with a handsome man and afterwards he gets up, goes to the bathroom and then hands in his bloody heart on a silver platter…(??!). Human thought and feeling is always a labyrinth.

Writing must be something of an Iron Tale, must be tough and sincere to the core of human perception of pain as valor. I remain the grumpy T-Rex who started writing out of pain, not necessarily because of a broken heart as it doesn’t break so easily after I have put around it some iron circles. Writing out of love is painless and herbivore*. As we sometimes taste blood, ours or others’. We live in a cage called life, yet we find shelter and surreptitious haven in the decorations of a masqueraded reality or, when it gets too dire, in our imaginary legendary land.

Methinks some words are so expensive that we are better left with them unspoken or write them with the ink of a Ghost…

There’s no such thing as perfect writing, just like there’s no such thing as perfect despair. —Haruki Murakami

To write with the truth of pain in your mouth is gruesome poetry…You’ll have to cut out your heart with every word and show it to the world, then hope it will heal. This is how the light gets in, also the dark. To acknowledge fear, defeat, despair and pretend serenity of a lesson learned while patching up the wounds is…Life (fragment from my Tyrannosaurus Writing)*.

Art by Natalie Shau.

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She is primarily a teacher of English. Also her mind is lured by goodies like finance, economics, interest rates, the stock market, as she has a hankering for how the money is made.
Nevertheless she is a dreamer on a cloud...As dreams cost nothing...
In ordinary days she is a word-weaver for everything and everything that breathes. In the best of days she just follows the seasons by means of bike, skis, or roller-skates.
She is grateful to all colors of the world and to people who read, smile and drop a line here, or on her email.
Contributing author at Sudden Denouement Literary Collective, My Trending Stories and
Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective.

This is so interesting to me as these sentiments have no connection at all with my writing. I just cannot explain why I feel the need to write but it’s been there for as long as I can remember. It was of course my profession but when that was no longer the case I’ve kept on writing – on my blogs, short stories, poems (particularly haiku) and in a way I don’t care whether anyone reads any of it. I cannot explain it. The past few days I’ve been driving up to 12 hours a day to reach my destination in Romania (Iași, 5.30pm today) but despite being extremely tired I’ve managed to keep my Facebook diary, in fact felt the need to do it, every day when I had internet.
By the same token, I cannot take the advice from so many famous authors and set aside a time each day and write; I can write only when I want to say something. That ‘something’ may just be a comment on an interesting blog post, like this one. ❣️xx

Thank you, dear Roger ❤
I agree with you, as I always write for myself first, words are like soothing breaths of air over wounds. Nevertheless for my writing ramblings I require a quantity of happiness and a large amount of despair, I have yet to see their percentages from the whole amount of what sets moving my pen on an empty paper. Anyway writing is something that freezes time in a moment. And I do with that moment what I please or I make do.
I know you are on the road starting with the 25th and I am very happy that you have arrived safe and sound. I am looking forward to meeting you and Petronela. In this respect, I am writing you on your email. Have a merry stay in Iași, merry encounters and safe trip to Bucharest. xxx